


School Shooter

by Cherryberryblast1996



Series: That One Teacher Whose Booty You Stare At [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, College, Come Shot, Danger, F/M, Interracial Relationship, Love Stories, No Fluff, Not a Love Story, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, School Shootings, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Shooting Guns, Short One Shot, Smut, Taboo, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 17:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18237926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherryberryblast1996/pseuds/Cherryberryblast1996
Summary: We've all made the jokes. In the age when it happens so frequently, it's become a punchline. We've all picked on the one kid, pointed out a random quirk, said a little much. We've all made the jokes. Because if we were to take it seriously, it would be admitting danger, and *that* would be letting fear in.Neither of us had fear. Or maybe fear is what allowed us....Tuesday morning no one suspected a thing. Why would we?Listen, your teacher is hot. He's not godly gorgeous, but he's caught you staring a few times. You know if he ever approached, you'd accept. Now's your chance to make a move, in the midst of danger, when everyone is feeling some type of way. Just make sure he calls you beautiful, and you call him Professor.





	School Shooter

**Author's Note:**

> There's defo smut in this, although its more slow and sensual and passionate than some other smuts. Purposely left the character descriptions vague so you can imagine who you want; I definitely wrote this to live out my own fantasy. Enjoy, y'all!

We've all made the jokes. In the age when it happens so frequently, it's become a punchline. We've all picked on the one kid, pointed out a random quirk, said a little much. We've all made the jokes. Because if we were to take it seriously, it would be admitting danger, and *that* would be letting fear in.

Neither of us had fear. Or maybe fear is what allowed us....

Tuesday morning no one suspected a thing. Why would we?

My morning was slow because my night had been long, by choice and I knew the one I was making but I didn't like my morning any more for that. I was late getting out of bed, and late eating breakfast, and late getting on the shuttle, and late to my first class. But I always was because I was always late to wake up. I had stopped caring about the tardies weeks ago, and apparently, so had my professor.

I didn't know quite what I looked like that morning. I'd thrown a beanie over my dreads, and some water on my face. I didn't brush very long either. I wore only my onesie, with a bra and shorts under. Morning wasn't important.

I sat in the back of the room for my first class, Business Management, but the door was in the front so I was noticed coming in 17 minutes late.

"Grab a paper, Corey," Prof instructed loudly, clipping his own sentence to acknowledge me unnecessarily. It wasn't a malicious action though. He didn't smile with the words but his voice was friendly and non-judging, as he always is. *Casual.*

I grabbed a sheet up front and found my seat, nearly alone, in a corner. The class was small, believe it or not, only 28 students and Prof. They all sat in the first three rows of the lecture hall, mostly centered. I was the outlier, centered in the fourth row, by choice and I knew the one I was making.

Prof went through his lesson as he always did. He began with engaging questions, to which the class would give unreal answers because we were a laid back class. That's what my 17 minutes took from me. He had already made it to the actual lesson, flipping through slides, dishing definitions, insisting we take notes. I never did. I did okay in this class. An 86 is nothing to work on.

I got lost in watching Prof's lips move as he talked and discussed with other students. I always did. They were just so pretty.

Prof was no Ryan Reynolds or Idris Elba. No, Prof was like his class, like his personality: casual. He was about 5'9, hazel blue eyes, a little chunkier. But he had a nice face, a cute set of glasses, and a boyishness that made my young adult heart jump. My body reacted to him the same as Shawn Mendes or Austin Mahone. He walked like he didn't know what feet were but he had a place to be. He laughed like a teenager, and joked with immature boys about things unrelated to economics and money completely.

Prof's name was Luca Dencello and he was 26. This was his first time teaching at a college level, and no one calculated how his easygoing vibes, fun charm, and relatability would get the girls in his classes swooning. Plus, his almost "modern-fuckboi" haircut sent a message we were all picking up. My female friends that shared the teacher agreed with me: he could hit, to put it bluntly.

Prof allowed us to get started on the quickie worksheet that was meant for homework. He was old school as far as assignments went; everything was done on paper. I finished mine with 15 minutes of class left to spare which I put into listening to music. The harmonies and melodies of Bach would drown out whatever lustful demon begged me to do something I would regret.

But I couldn't completely stop myself from acting out. So my crossed my legs tightly and leaned forward. "Yo, Prof, I got a question."

"Mmmmkay, shoot," he prompted as he made his way over to desk space.

"Okay, is it legal to abuse someone if they broke into your home?" I couldn't stop the crazy smile taking over my face. Maybe I wanted him to notice my lips like I noticed his.

"Ummmm, well, what do you mean by 'abuse'? Because you can beat the shit outta someone, yeah, but you can't, like, rape them." His smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was small because the question was stupid but not funny.

"Yeah, no, I meant rape. Because, like, they broke into *your* house, you should be able to do anything."

Now his smile revealed teeth, and that's what the lustful demon wanted. And I can't say I didn't enjoy it myself either.

"You've been thinking about this for a while now, haven't you?" he asked slowly. I don't think he expected a response as he moved away from my desk and towards another student.

Another student had been listening, not that my question was private, and proposed his own. "Hobos can't get arrested for rape, though, right?"

Prof actually laughed at that one, probably because that student, Jared, scored 10/10 on delivery every time. "What? Why would you think that? Hobos cannot just rape people!"

Jared clarified, "No, I mean, like, each other."

I began to zone out here, falling back into the classical music. Thank you, Little Einsteins for your guidance.

Class ended, and I dipped with a quick goodbye to which Prof responded, as always, "Have a good one." A good what?

Later, after I'd changed into actual adulting clothes and gone through my second class, I dropped by Prof's office. He had lunch at the same time every day but Friday and his door was always open to anyone bored enough to hang out with their teacher. But he was cool, and maybe he knew this, so there were always students in his office during lunch. I was just another of many. But I wasn't solitary now as my friends also came to hang with Prof. He was attractive and *attractive*.

We joked with him and any of the other teachers that stopped by for a smile. I tried to keep my staring to a minimum but that lusty demon was insatiable. That hair, those lips, his words, his glasses, those hands, that shirt, he was something to look at without tire. At least to my reasonable mind.

But lunch for professors is only so fleeting as the time between classes and conference hours. My friends, 2 of them at least, had Prof next for General Economics, and the third decided to walk with them to Prof's room. I was left alone with this man I called Mister. And that's when it happened.

Both of our phones buzzed with vibrations at the same time. We saw the message together. *Emergency Lockdown. Active Shooter On Campus. This is not a DRILL. Repeat, this is NOT A DRILL.*

It was lightning how Prof moved, dropping his phone, pushing me back, and slamming his office door closed with a lock.

I was still in shock after he'd blocked his window with a black cover and turned out the lights. Little beams of sun streamed in through the small slits of windows near the ceiling on his far wall. If you didn't know it, you might believe it was minutes from sunset already.

"Corey? Corey, you okay? Coretta!"

I came back when I heard my name. I didn't like the age that came with a name like mine. I made sure everyone called me Corey.

His hands were gripping my shoulders and he stared hard into my eyes.

"We need to get down, out of line with the window," he repeated, because apparently what he was saying a second ago hadn't made it to me.

I nodded and let him guide me to the wall the door occupied and he sat me down. He sat next to me, our knees just grazing each other.

"You know how this works, right, Corey?"

I looked at him. His eyes were an icier blue now, the bits of brown smothered in his seriousness.

"Uh, yes. Just don't let anyone in, be as quiet as possible. Can I text my mom?"

"Do it quick."

I sent a fast "I'm safe, love u" to my mom. She would have died worrying about me once she found out what was going on.

I put my phone on silent from then on. I wanted nothing to risk my life.

Prof gave me a questioning look, asking if I'm okay still. I nodded but bit my lip.

Two shots fired somewhere on the unsafe side of the door and I threw myself into Prof's arms for protection.

He didn't hold me long; he got up and rolled his chair in front of the door for further safety, but he put me back into his chest when he sat back down.

That stupid demon showed its head again. It was definitely not the right time but being wrapped up in his scent did something to me.

I slowly looked up at him, held his eyes with my own. After a moment, his hand moved to hold my chin and raise it just a bit. Maybe Prof had a demon too. Maybe this was an episode of Big Mouth.

I kissed him, by choice and I knew the one I was making.

When I pulled away, he followed, and kissed me back. His arm around me became less a protective barrier and more a caressing steady.

The angle that we came together was slightly uncomfortable so I moved myself to his lap. This kiss had officially become a makeout session. I fell deeper into Prof as his tongue made its way into my mouth and searched it. My hands pressed against his chest and one of his had snaked to the back of my neck to guide me as he liked.

Another shot rang, and then 2 more. I broke our connection to look at the door and reestablish its security. We were still okay.

Prof turned my face to look at him but he hesitated to kiss me again.

"What are we doing?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

"But you want to keep going?"

"Yes?"

The question mark at the end stabbed my heart. Then really, *what were we doing?*

"Professor Dencello, I think you're really cute. And the last three weeks of class are gonna be real awkward but I'm willing to risk it all."

"I... I've never done this before, Corey."

"Been with a student during an active shooter lockdown?" I laughed ironically. "Neither have I."

"You are so beautiful but this is against school policy. And you're just a kid."

"I am 19, Professor Dencello. I am the same as you." He hesitated to respond again so I grabbed his chin like he had mine. "Tell me to get off and I will."

He didn't. So I put my lips back to his and picked up where we left off, my tongue forcing into his mouth first before the reverse.

His hands moved under my shirt to hold me just below the cup of my bra. I started to grind against him, slowly but picking up speed until I felt the tauntness of his dark slacks. He winced just the slightest and I stopped.

I lay my head on his shoulder while he caught his breath and whispered in his ear, "Make love to me, Professor Dencello."

His breath caught, a bang closer to our hideout, I raised my head to look at him. He kissed me so I took that as an okay.

His hands left my sides to greet my thighs. They slipped under the crinkled skirt and slowly pulled off my panties which I stood to finish removing. Prof met me standing, pulled off his tie and shirt, helped me out of my accessory jacket. He picked me up and sat me on his desk to wait impateintly while he unzipped his pants and pushed them off his legs.

It was more than just his thighs that were thick. The tip of him was the same shade of pink of as his lips.

I brought my mouth to his again, needing some sort of physical connection to survive, it felt. I was ready, I couldn't have been more wet for him.

He broke the kiss, removed his glasses, and sank down to his knees. Anticipation made me squeeze my legs together but he separated them and kissed up my thighs. He took a breath, blew into me softly, and put his mouth on my needy nub. I held my breath until I remembered to let it out, a quiet "Professor" escaping with the air. He sucked on me with skill, his tongue swirling around my clit like he licked his lips.

I was shaking, vibrating even, when he finally came up for air. My fingers were tangled deep in his fuckboi hair. Flecks of brown had returned to his eyes but the blue was still dominant and intriguing.

Standing, he pumped himself a few times, and I added my hand to return the favor but he hesitated.

"Corey. Corey, Corey. I don't have any condoms," he informed me. "I never thought I'd need them at work." And he smiled that stupid-but-not-funny smile.

I took his glasses and slid them back on his face. I leaned into his ear again. "Do me raw, Professor Dencello." And I scooted further off the desk, closer to him.

I raised my legs as he lined up at my entrance and gently pushed into me. I squeezed his shoulders as I adjusted to his size. When I did, I went back to his lips and he began to move inside me. He gripped my leg and raised it above his waist for better angle.

He had changed the game. His sensual movements disrupted my brain function temporarily and I lay back on his desk, just letting him work me. With each thrust my back arched just a little more.

"Corey, come back to me, I wanna see you. Here with me." His voice had changed. It was stressed and harsh, like his casuality had left him for me. But he was still gentle. I was a queen.

I raised myself from the desk and pulled my shirt over my head. I maintained eye contact as I unsnapped my bra and pulled it from my arms.

Prof stopped and caressed up my body and my breasts, ran his thumbs over my very sensitive nipples. I arched into his touch; I would take any little he gave me.

He placed his hand back behind my neck for another passionate kiss. In my ear this time, he said, "I'm going to get a little rougher now."

Impaled by my professor, he picked me up and slammed me against the wall beside the door. He thrusted into me hard two quick times then relaxed to a steady, teasingly slow (but not quite as gentle) rhythm.

He kissed my neck and follwed up with sucking a hickey into it strongly. Neck sucking was always my weak spot; the double stimulation had me struggling to hold on. One of my hands held his shoulder tight, too tight, I was never going to let go, and the other was between us working my clit into a happy oblivion.

I clenched my eyes shut as I felt that familiar knot of an orgasm building and expanding in my lower abdomen.

"Slow down, Corey. Be here with me."

I opened my eyes and glanced at him. Sweat had come down Prof's face but he still looked so young and so fine. He could have been my age or younger. His lips were parted, his eyebrows a little stitched, his glasses foggy just around the edges.

I slowed my hand but put my head back against the wall and closed my eyes.

"Corey, look at me. Keep looking at me."

I obeyed, turning my eyes to his and deciding I wouldn't look away for anything.

"Fuck me, Professor Luca," I got out in a wispy breath.

A full smile took his face, and he took my air. He grabbed my thigh tighter and let one hand hold my back, bringing us as close as possible as he entered and retreated, entered and retreated.

He pulled me less than an inch off the wall and slammed me back against it with a force I wasn't expecting.

A whimper jumped out of me at that action. When he did it again, I moaned.

"Professor Luca," I got out on the third slam.

"I like that. Say it again."

"Professor Luca--" and he slammed me against the wall a fourth time.

Another gunshot sounded outside. I'd almost forgotten the situation that brought us here. But I was too busy now to think about the danger that shooter introduced and the danger we posed to ourselves.

Prof sped up his movements, adding a hip swivel that resulted in a direct contact with my G-spot. His name came out as a mangled plea this time.

He took me from the wall again, this time moving me to the floor. The hand that molded his shoulder moved to wrap around his neck. The hand that kept me at the edge of an orgasm left me and followed the first.

One of my legs Prof allowed to lie flat on the floor but the other he kept firmly in his grip as he continued his pounding into me. His arm held him above me as he kissed me and sucked my bottom lip before moving lower. And lower. And lower.

Prof took my whole breast into his mouth, swirling the nipple and taking it gently between his teeth.

I couldn't hold it any longer.

"Prof... Prof... Luca, I'm gonna come."

"Hold on, I'm right there, I'm almost there."

We changed positions one more time, Prof picking me up and letting me ride him as he sat back against the wall.

I tried to find an even flow of movement, but I couldn't relax enough to focus on that. I needed to come, and the sound of four gunshots and heavy boots hustling added to the urgency.

I kissed Prof's neck and followed that up with a mark of my own. He tightened his fingers in my hair.

"So close, Professor."

"Hold on."

Just a little more, and--

I let go, by choice and I knew the one I was making.

I held on to Prof as I hit my high and continued to ride gim to draw out my orgasm.

"You are so pretty, Corey, when you're lost," I heard Prof say as he began meeting my hips with his own thrusts.

In my head, I thought we might come together so I did something daring.

I forced myself to see and stared Prof right in his eyes almost hidden behind fogged glasses. "Come inside me, Professor Luca."

His lips parted, whatever thought stopped in its tracks. His whole body tensed beneath me, inside me. A stressed moan left him finally, one that seemed to have been held back the whole time we'd been going. He moved his hands to my hips and kept me riding him as I came down and he hit his.

I could feel him filling me, pushing into me rougher yet, milking himself with me, using me. I just lay my forehead on his until he was done and dry, sucking in every breath he let out.

When Prof stopped moving, we stayed in this position, needing rest from the ordeal. I could taste his sweat in my mouth from when I had made contact with his skin. I didn't want to lose that so I kissed his neck and his chest and his chin and his forehead and finally his lips.

He watched me with questions in his eyes, eyes that he opened and closed because his hair allowed more sweat into them.

"What did we do, Corey?" He was much out of breath.

I stood up then, pulled my skirt back down to my waist, felt his hot cum run down my leg slowly.

Prof didn't move, just continued to watch me as I put on my bra and found my shirt. I stole some tissues from his desk and cleaned up my leg.

"We had sex, Prof," I finally answered him. "I rather enjoyed myself."

"But--" he paused to remove his glasses, clench his eyes shut, and then look at me above him. "--You're my student."

I took his glasses, cleaned the fog and sweat from them, and replaced them on his face. "And you are my dream, Professor Dencello."

My phone buzzed somewhere and I checked the message. It wasn't my mom, and I was relieved.

I tossed Prof his nice pants that were much more wrinkled than before we began and his shirt just as the police started pounding on the door.

"Its safe, we are SWAT, is everyone inside okay?" Their voices boomed like you'd imagine they did.

Prof was spooked into action, quickly sliding his legs into his slacks and arms through his button-up.

I respinded to the officer. "Yes, we're fine. Just a little shook."

"How many of you are there?"

"Just two. Can we come out now?"

"Yes, the area is safe now. I'm going to open the door."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos, yeah?


End file.
